Remotely disturbing

"Mama, I want you to make a 'mote that makes every day a stay-home day!" says Little Dog, leveling his serious gaze on me.
"Um. Ok," I reply automatically. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to do that, but he thinks I can and I know from experience that if I tell him I am unable to build these amazing remotes he dreams up the consequence is not worth the value of the honesty. See, this is a running theme. He asks for miraculous remotes that change the things in the world he dislikes and I'm supposed to deliver them. And frankly, I'm not that kind of handy. I take some comfort in the simple fact that no one is (or at least no one that I know!)

Over the past year his remote needs have become very context sensitive. I've been asked for "a 'mote that turns me into Batman," when he decides his life is not super enough. When he's being sent into a well-deserved time out, he demands "a 'mote that goes back to start over," in hopes of avoiding this fate. Other times the remotes bring him desserts, takes him back to grandma and grandpa's house, makes it day or night or simply make it "not bedtime!" Anytime he thinks he'd like a different outcome, I'm told to "make a 'mote!"

It's really hard not to giggle. Partly because of the sheer creativity of his chosen solution to his problems, (though I'd bet he has been at least partly scarred by Tivo) and partly because he seems to think I may actually be capable of making these devices. Hell, if I could harness the space/time continuum I'd be rolling in dough, or at very least be able to keep up with the plot lines of Lost. I don't think I'd be squandering my amazing talent on the whims of a 4-year-old tyrant. I'd be using my amazing remotes to get my feet (and ass) back to their pre-pregnancy size. Oh, and to create world peace. Yeah. The important stuff.